


Constellations

by GhostGarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Astronomy, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Season 9, Stargazing, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't quite understand why humans feel the need to name stars in the sky, but Sam is willing to share his knowledge and help him experience them first-hand. [written for angelnamedcastiel's prompt]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

Despite losing his wings, Castiel is still an angel. He doesn’t need to eat, he doesn’t need to sleep, or do any of those other human necessities—though a PB&J or a cheeseburger every once in a while is always appreciated, despite tasting like their complex molecular structures.

Despite all this, he still takes up residence in the bunker, now that it’s apparently safe to do so now that Gadreel is gone and no longer threatening the safety of Sam Winchester. He only decides to return after being invited—these types of human customs still confuse him, but he he’d rather play it safe and stay away from Lebanon until explicitly told.

His invitation came in the form of a call one day, several days after things had settled after they convened in order to forcefully cast Gadreel from Sam’s body with the help of Crowley. That meeting always left a sour taste in Castiel’s mouth, working with a demon and trusting him enough to enter Sam. It was risky and Castiel wishes they could have done it another way—without Crowley, preferably—but he guesses he shouldn’t be the one judging, having caused such trouble by working with the former King of Hell.

"Cas," Dean had said, "Haven’t seen you in awhile, maybe you could double back and we could meet up or something. Stick around for a bit, I don’t know—" 

Dean’s voice cut out and there was a brief shuffling sound.

"What he means is," Sam sighed, and in the back of his mind, Castiel saw Sam rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "You should come back. To the bunker, I mean. There’s room and, uh—"

"Sam," Castiel stopped him mid-sentence. "I’ll leave as soon as I wrap up here."

"Great," came Sam’s genuine reply, and in that moment, Castiel wish he could have just ‘strapped on his wings’ and gone right away. Thankfully, his acquired car went fast enough to get him there within a day and a half of sleepless driving.

Life underground is nice enough. It’s definitely better than living on the streets like a human, those are weeks he’d rather not repeat. Ever, if he had anything to say about it. No, he likes his bedroom here in the bunker, its empty walls and shelves slowly filling up with knick-knacks that he picked up over time. A figurine of Seattle Space Needle, his first parking ticket—unpaid—and some books and frames from the trash that he couldn’t just leave—all of it kept like a shrine of his time on earth.

Despite having a bedroom and a place all to himself, infinite privacy like he has never had before, Castiel still spends most of his free time in the bunker’s library. The Men of Letters had a good collection of books, mostly academic lore based heavily in logic and factual evidence. He enjoys those the most. Even with angelic knowledge, there are things about the monsters that roam earth that he does not know.

He’s currently in one of the leather armchairs, legs tucked up underneath him while Sam searches through thick reference texts spread out on a table nearby. Castiel is currently reading from a thin book randomly picked from the shelves, far thinner than those of Sam’s. It had the word “Angels” in the title, so Castiel thought it was an apt choice, even if by chance.

But now he’s not so sure.

"This book," Castiel starts, looking down at its pages quizzically, trying to make sense of the words, "is confusing."

"Hm?" Sam hums, not taking his eyes off the script before him. "Why?"

"It says that stars are people."

"What do you mean?"

"Cassiopeia… Orion…" Castiel squints down at the words, recognizing the last from a recent movie he’s watched. "Hercules?"

"Cas," Sam laughs, looking up from the leather-bound volume that had currently kept his interest, "those are constellations."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that they’re just names for stars. Or collections of stars, at least."

Castiel tilts his head. “What is the purpose of naming collections of stars?”

"Hah," Sam muses, sitting back in his chair. "I guess I’ve never thought of that. To identify them, I guess."

"Is there a Sam constellation?"

"I don’t think they work that way."

"A Dean one?"

"No," Sam smiles but shakes his head. "But there’s one named Pegasus."

"Really?" Castiel says, remembering the white horse companion to Hercules from the Disney movie. Perhaps those movies bear more historical accuracy than he originally thought.

"Yeah, and one named Phoenix. The bird, though, not the guy that we met in 1861."

Ah yes, Castiel remembers that. Such a draining experience to send two humans back and forth in time… He stares down at the words on the page, trying to discern why a collection of stars would be named after such things. He knows stars are orbiting spheres of gasses on fire, but for some reasons, humans have the strange need to name absolutely everything.

"Cas?" Sam asks, looking at him with a peculiar expression. Castiel looks up from the book in his hands, drawn away from his thoughts. "Would you like to see more?"

Sam doesn’t wait for his reply, quickly flipping his own book closed and standing up to stretch his arms above his head. “I need a break, anyways. Let’s go.”

"Alright," Castiel agrees, despite not knowing what he’s agreeing to.

Sam leads him back through the bunker, past the kitchen and down the hall past their bedrooms, all lined up in a row, to the main room and up the stairs.

The night is dark and disorienting compared to the florescent light of the bunker and the air is crisp and cool against their skin. Midsummer nights in Lebanon are pleasant, thankfully—neither of them require jackets.

The underbrush of the forest crunches underneath Castiel’s feet as he follows. They weave through the tree trunks in relative silence, the only noises are the leaves of the tall trees rustling together in the light breeze. Sam leads him along an invisible path, one known only by him with no other discernible markers.

It’s a few minutes hiking, but they come to a small clearing where the trees separate and refuse to grow. Castiel can feel the tingling of a residual magic, an energy from a very very long time ago, tickling the tips of his fingers and the bottom of his feet. Whatever this place is, it’s special. Or was, at one point.

There’s a boulder off to the side, jutting out from the earth, ragged at the edges but softened from the weather. Sam marches straight towards it before spinning on his heels and leaning against it. He motions for Castiel to do the same.

Neither of them speak for a moment, and there’s a chorus of cicadas singing from the forest, providing a slight humming in the background. Sam cants his head towards the sky, now completely exposed by the clearing.

The stars twinkle above them, lit against a dark sky like lights against a velvet curtain. Some gleam brighter than others, and for a moment, Castiel thinks of all the times he’s flown through the cosmos, through these giant spheres of hot burning gasses and thinking about God’s bigger plan for them. What were their purpose? Are they truly there to light up the sky of humans?

His thoughts are interrupted by Sam, who clears his throat.

"I come out here to think sometimes," Sam begins, like he somehow believes he needs to explain himself. He pauses and takes a breath, exhaling slowly as he looks towards the sky. "Out here, no one bothers me."

Castiel tries to hide his frown by keeping his eyes to the sky. “Do I bother you?”

"No, god no, you don’t," he says quickly. "Just Dean and everything, you know?"

Castiel waits for him to continue, feeling there is more hanging on the edge of that statement.

"With all this stuff happening, Dean’s really been on edge." He chuckles to himself softly. "I mean, I don’t blame him, but this job… it used to be a lot easier, a lot simpler."

Sam hangs his head back, stretching his neck as he sighs.

"So much has happened, and the right path isn’t always clear," he continues. "I don’t always know what to think, so I come out here, away from it all."

Cas stares down at his shoelaces, one is coming undone. “Like a vacation?”

"A brain vacation, maybe." Sam shrugs. "A vacation from people, too, I guess."

"I’m sorry to pry," Castiel apologizes.

"No, no. I should be the one saying sorry since I practically dragged you out in the dark and then preceded to spill my guts to you."

"I don’t mind."

"Anyways," Sam says, clearing his throat again as if to restart the conversation. "Constellations?"

"Right." Castiel smiles, looking back at the sky, the neglected purpose of their escapade.

"First things first," Sam starts, raising a finger towards the treeline. "See that square of stars?" Castiel squints towards the sky, trying to find the right square of stars. "That’s the Big Dipper."

"I don’t get it."

"Well, there’s a line of stars off the square. It looks like… a big spoon? Or a ladle?"

"Hm," Castiel hums, trying to see why humanity would draw shapes among the stars, especially ones that are shaped like utensils.

"There’s also the star called Vega—that one right there, just past that branch—" Sam points off to the left. "And if you draw a little arrow with those other two stars right next to it, you get Lyra. A harp, I think. Or at least its harp-shaped."

"Are there any people up there?"

Sam’s attention drags from the sky to Castiel, brows furrowed. “Like constellations shaped like people?”

"Yes."

"Uh, I think there should be at least one," Sam replies, eyes searching the starry expanse, looking for something familiar. "Oh, there."

Castiel waits for him to continue.

Sam fingers wrap around Cas’ wrist, bringing it up and pointing it to the sky. They both lean in, trying to synchronize their line of sight in order to see the same star in such a large sea of them. Sam holds it steady, slightly adjusting the position until its just right.

"See that one just below that bright one?" Sam asks, inches from his ear. "That’s the beginning of Hercules."

"Like the movie?"

Sam laughs, light and heartily and it’s such a nice sound to hear. “No, the constellation came before the movie, not the other way around.”

"Oh," Castiel sighs before looking over to Sam, still inches away. His touch is warm against his skin, even more so in the cool night air. Castiel lets Sam guide his finger around, pointing out the various ‘arms’ and ‘legs’ of this so-called Hercules that lives in the sky. He has trouble visualizing how some human long ago looked up and saw such shapes in the sky.

"And that’s the end of the other leg," Sam says, pointing Cas’ finger at one last star.

"How do you know all these?" Castiel asks after their arms drop, and he immediately misses the warm presence on his wrist, on his hand.

Sam’s face reddens slightly as he looks away. “I used to be a big astronomy nerd.”

“Used to?”

"Shut up," Sam smiles. "Fine, I still am. Sometimes, when I was a kid, I’d sneak outside of wherever we were sleeping and sit on the hood of the car. I liked looking at the stars and I always knew what the Big Dipper looked like because Dean taught me. But he didn’t know anything else, so I went and checked out a book from the library about stars."

Sam kicks at the dirt with the toe of one shoe, bashful in his story.

"We ended up leaving two days later so I never got to return the book. I read it and re-read it so many times over the summers that I must have memorized it all."

"Ah," Castiel says, turning a little against the rock in order to meet Sam’s eyes. "Thank you… for sharing your knowledge with me."

"Don’t worry about it," Sam replies. "It was good to get out for a bit." His voice drops lower, more quiet. "I really missed this."

"Stargazing?"

"Yeah, being able to look up at the sky and see stars and forget what happens during the daytime."

"You should do it more often, then," Castiel suggests, before adding on, "if it makes you feel happy."

"Yeah," Sam mumbles, clearing his throat one last time. "You know, I think I will. Thanks."

"Your welcome."

The trek back is a little colder than it was out as the night progressed. Sam doesn’t so much as lead Castiel back through the trees but rather walk beside him, gently guiding him down a somewhat familiar path back to the bunker.

"And, of course, you should come too," Sam adds belatedly to their conversation earlier and it takes a moment for Castiel to make the connection. "If you want to. I mean, if you’re around."

"I’d be honored."

"Great," Sam smiles brightly in the dark of the night, threading their hands together, making Cas falter in surprise. "Maybe tomorrow night?"

Castiel stares at their intertwined fingers then back up at Sam’s face, still smiling and waiting for an answer.

"Of course."

Dean’s holed up in his room asleep when they get back, so the only witnesses to their hands clasped together were Sam, Castiel, and a man in the sky named Hercules.


End file.
